


Sonata in some letter, flat

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-25
Updated: 2003-11-25
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7092574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is their lullaby; this is all they have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sonata in some letter, flat

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

**Sonata in some letter, flat**  
by Jaclyn // musicnotej@aol.com  
11.21.03

Timeline: the summer between Tomorrow and Deep Down.  
A/N: This was a bit of an experiment, so feedback on the writing style especially is much appreciated.

*

And the silhouette of Lilah in his bathroom, etched in the murky glow of a streetlight through the curtain. She's wearing a black satin bra and slip, and is it his imagination or are her sloping curves more pronounced than they used to be?

It's a skinnier Lilah holding her head, muttering _fuck fuck fuck_ in his bathroom in the dark, and Wesley's not supposed to be watching. He's supposed to be ordering takeout from one of the cheaper places, the only ones open at nearly 3:30 in the morning, but Lilah's other arm wraps around the delicate plane of her stomach like protection and the chinese food can fucking wait.

_She's pregnant_ , and the thought comes to him with such clarity that it brings only calm in its wake. And it's a kind of relief, that maybe they will have to deal with whatever the hell this relationship is, but--

But she isn't, Wesley realizes a moment later; he remembers Lilah bleeding just last week. And Lilah's hands fall away and she straightens, staring into the distance -- the mirror -- and it is very strange, the way she looks, her body sliced into messy fragments of light and shadow: the dark of his bathroom, the harsh fluorescence of LA.

And then she walks out, leaving Wesley to quickly fumble for the phone. If she's aware he was staring she makes no acknowledgement, and maybe it's better that way; but maybe it's not. It is entirely possibly that they are being unbearably stupid, edging around each other for months, but what else can they do?

"I'm tired," Lilah says as he dials with the guilt of a voyeur. "I'm crashing here tonight."

And it's not a question, never a question: she cannot and will not ask for anything from him. But she can walk all over him, at least in theory, and that's just fine. They are outside reality, at least when together, and _no_ , that's not a fucking romantic cliché. There is no sense in this, any of this, and is breaking their worlds, slowly, slowly.

They haven't fucked yet tonight. Wesley had just slammed Lilah against the wall when old Mrs. Weatherby from down the hall started pounding on the door with her cane, yelling that her heater had broken again, and Wesley had to go explain that he was not the super, because the super lived one floor down.

After that the mood was broken and Lilah declared herself hungry. Wesley went to order; Lilah went   to-- well, _something_ in the bathroom. He isn't quite sure what that moment was: Lilah hugging herself against the chill, Lilah staving off a meltdown, Lilah just ticked off over a headache.

He isn't sure what any of this is anymore and even though they haven't fucked-- Lilah is sleeping in his bed tonight, covered in bruises he can't see.

 

END


End file.
